A Rain of Feathers upon Ash
by Sleeping-force's-inside
Summary: "I will kill Abaddon, and all those that schemed with him." "When the hour of my judgement comes, I will embrace it." R & E & R 12th Chapter Online
1. Chapter 1

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **1**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me and Food-for-mind**

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Azrael floated alone above the precipice as the Horsemen fell from the sky. It wouldn't be long now, that was for certain. Taking a shuddering breath, he touched down on the ground below him. Stumbling briefly, it seemed his legs had as little strength left as his wings.

Another breath passed his lips as he sat down, hands pushing his hair aside. They were trembling... Why were they trembling? 'When the hour of my judgement comes, I will embrace it.' He had said those words, he had _meant_ them, so why was he afraid now?

Sighing softly as he shifted, neatly folding his legs underneath himself –wincing at the pain that caused him –, he knew why. Swallowing thickly, he opened his robes just enough to reach for a necklace he wore underneath.

It was seemingly a simple thing, two golden wings originating from a lapis lazuli and their wingtips touching lightly above the smooth stone. But each feather was intricately carved with astonishing detail. Looking up at the fortress, it seemed that he still had a little time left. Small mercies, apparently.

Looking down at his necklace, he hesitated briefly before kissing it gently. It'd probably be the last chance he'd get to do this. Relaxing, he folded his hands in his lap, clutching the trinket. His own wings folded neatly behind him, long feathers dragging over the ground.

Above him, angels flew away, heading back to the city in the distance. He should be able to join them, he could still get away. His powers should be sufficient to evade the Horsemen for a long time, perhaps even forever...

"I am surprised you are still here." A heavy voice came from behind him. The angel more sensed than heard the others that were standing there.

"I did say I would embrace my judgment." Still holding the necklace tightly, he rose back to his feet. As he turned, he saw that indeed all four Horsemen were there, War standing slightly in front of his siblings. "I hope you are not insinuating I'd go back on my word."

"Considering keeping your word might mean your demise..." Death softly countered, Harvester hanging in the form of two small scythes on his belt.

Azrael nodded lightly. "I had a hundred years to get used to the thought." He looked at his hand, where the thin chain of the necklace was hanging down between his fingers. Looking up again, he met War's glowing eyes evenly. "I give myself to your judgement, Rider."

"What's that?" The youngest Nephilim instead asked, gesturing to the fist the angel still held at his side. So unlike the scholar...

"A small trinket..." The Archangel lifted the hand, opening it lightly to allow the pendant to dangle freely. "It has brought me some comfort this last century. I hope you do not mind if I draw upon that now..." He smiled weakly as it turned a bit, catching some of the sunlight. The smile faded as he lowered it again to look at his soon-to-be executioner. "Well? I do believe you said you'd kill me."

"You redeemed yourself." Did the Rider actually sound... reluctant?

"Not enough to... to receive mercy of the magnitude of being spared." The angel's jaw trembled lightly as he looked down. "Do your duty."

"You could get a delay at least..." Now Azrael was certain. War _did_ sound reluctant.

"To what end?" White eyes met blue ones surprisingly evenly. "Any things I would want a delay of this over I would never be given enough time for." The scholar looked at the dangling necklace as he moved to put it on once again, tucking it under his robes.

He heard the sound of Chaoseater moving through the air. So the time had arrived. "Such as?" The Horseman was stalling. How Creation had been turned upside down... War unwilling to take a life!?

"See my lover one last time." He cursed himself. The mere mention of the one who had given him the necklace had started the tears. Pathetic... "But as said... if I'd see him again..." He started shaking, hand pressing against the necklace through his robe. "I would not be able to do this..." He tried to catch himself, to force the emotions down but he could not. How long had it been since he had last seen the other? So long... And now, now he would never see him again. He had wanted to say so many things, wanted to just... hear his lover declare his love one more time, but...

Faintly, he realized he had sunk through his knees, tears falling to the ash-covered ground. No. This was not what he intended. He had intended to go dignified, not weeping. Forcing himself to at least sit upright when the end came, he looked at War. "End me, Horseman, before I lose what resolve I have and become a coward who flees." Not caring how it would look, he pulled his robes open roughly, moving to clutch the golden pendant. It had carried him through the Black Throne, it would carry him through this... he hoped.

War stood in front of him, face clearly conflicted as he watched the stoic scholar crumble before him. Said scholar refused to even acknowledge the others with them.

Suddenly, there was Strife between them, Redemption outstretched. Only briefly his eyes could widen at the sight of the barrel, before the sound of a single gunshot heralded nothingness.

"You were just prolonging it." The sleek-armoured Rider stated tonelessly as Azrael's body fell lifelessly to the ground. A single bullet-wound was between the empty eyes, blood and a few last tears streaming down to the ground. The glowing runes faded as the wind caught the long feathers. His hand was still clutching the necklace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **2**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

War blinked a couple times, only slowly making the mental connection between his brother in front of him and the dead angel on the ground. Returning Chaoseater back to its' place on his back, he moved past the Gunner to kneel at Azrael's side.

"Can you fix this?" The Red Rider looked at his eldest brother while his fingertips gently touched the single bullet-hole between the white eyes. "Make it so one does not see the wound?"

"Why?" Despite the question, Death slowly joined his white-haired sibling, leaning down to do as he asked.

"Heaven does not know what he did. The Charred Council does not know." Careful not to break the fragile skin, War closed the angel's eyes. "This shall be his mercy: they will never know of his part in the End War. Abaddon will shoulder it alone." He summoned Ruin, managing to get onto the flaming horse while cradling the corpse against his chest.

"You better clean the blood though." Fury's horse appeared beside her with a flick of her wrist. "They'll know something happened if they see it."

"There is water nearby." Supporting Azrael with his golem-arm, he rearranged the robes as best as he could.

"And how will you explain the fact he is dead to begin with?" Strife pulled up to his brother as they crossed the threshold into the caverns.

"I'll think of something." War looked at the face resting against his pauldron. With the wound and eyes closed, one could almost think the angel looked peaceful. Well, aside from the blood. "All this could have been prevented. Just a fucking note to Abaddon: 'hey, we know what you are planning' and BAM!" The Nephilim snarled in anger. "All these dead and all this suffering would not have happened." He gently shifted the scholar, making sure the long feathers would not drag over the ground.

"We will have words about that, no doubt." Death stated, his voice being flat. He steered Despair ahead of Ruin, looking back on the angel on the flaming steed's back. "This scheme of theirs has cost Creation entirely too much, not even considering the loss of the Watcher of the Well."

War grunted in agreement. "Completely unnecessary."

He slowed down when they reached the water. "We'll have to go to the 'Broken Stair', it's the only spot where angels are. They will hopefully help us find Uriel..."

"If they still are there." Fury pointed out, helping him clean Azrael of the blood. "Considering what just happened, they might as well be heading back to the White City."

"Uriel would first fetch her wounded." The Firstborn stood watch, combing idly with his fingers through Despair's mane. "So we still have some time before they do that."

"So we are seriously heading through this demon-infested city with a corpse?" Strife muttered darkly. "This is going to be fun."

"Strife." Death warned the short-haired male sharply.

"Hey, I am still around, aren't I?" The White Rider sneered.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

They weren't there anymore, only a few Wicked remaining underneath the broken street.

"You and Strife stay here." Death told War, looking out over the ashen place. "I and Fury will go look for angels." He looked over at the angel the youngest Rider was still holding. "We should not be long."

"Alright." War steered Ruin to a broken building nearby, Strife following after a bit.

The Gunner staid outside, pulling one of his guns as the Red Rider headed inside. Death and Fury rode off after a short while, leaving the two brothers behind.

Inside the building, War carefully put Azrael down before moving several of the unsmashed tables together so he could rest the angel on them. Hardly an appropriate resting-place for the scholar, but he couldn't do better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **3**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

His eyes narrowed as he rearranged the elaborate robes. After thoroughly checking if no enemies were left that could disturb the angel's body, he headed downstairs again.

"The locket slipped off..." Looking over at Strife, War looked out over the area surrounding them. There was no way they'd find the piece of jewellery in this mess. "He must have broken the clip when he grabbed it."

"Well, I'm not going to look for it, that is for certain." The Gunner leaned against the crumbling wall. "If we had stayed at that place we could still have found it."

"And you'd be the one to go fetch an angel to all the way out there, no doubt?" The youngest Nephilim dryly demanded while turning back into the building. Slowly making his way up the stairs, he looked upon the scholar in sadness. No, despite everything, the angel had not deserved this fate. Well, it was too late now at any rate.

Hand trembling, he carefully pushed aside some strands of platinum hair. And the mystic's lover... The hand became a fist. He would have given Azrael some time, had the angel but asked. Instead he had chosen to never see whoever it was ever again. Even if the soul would survive the cleansing of the Well of Souls, he'd never face his lover as such again.

Carefully lifting the slender hand briefly, he felt the smooth skin. The hands of a scholar... they should never have become embroiled in this madness.

"I'll find your lover..." His voice a mere whisper, he placed the hand back on the unmoving chest. "And I will tell him how much you loved him still." Even if he could not bring the amulet along as well. And then, after he had dealt with the Charred Council one way or another, he'd face the angel's lover one last time. "He'll avenge you..."

Hearing horses, he moved to the opening in the wall.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"No." Uriel had not believed the claims of Death when he and his sister had found the angelic camp. Azrael dead!? The scholar had stayed in the White City when the call was made and the Hellguard left for the Endwar. He could not have died on Earth! Her hand trembled when she reached out to touch the body in front of her. It was real. The Gatekeeper had truly died. "How?"

"He had been captured by the Destroyer." War stood beside the tables. "Imprisoned in the Black Throne, his energies were drained by some statues so he could not defend the Well of Souls..." Taking a deep breath, he looked down on the dead mystic. "I freed him and he helped me, but I guess he must have pushed himself too hard. Perhaps he misjudged how badly he had been affected, but..." Hesitating briefly, he in the end carefully rested his hand on Azrael's. "When I returned to where he had been after the final battle, he was dying. He had drained himself dry to stop Abaddon."

"Is there no end to the death Abaddon has wrought?" Trembling, Uriel took a couple deep breaths to calm herself. Turning to one of the angels that had come with her, she ordered him to fetch more so they could carry Azrael back to their current camp. "Thank you for returning his body."

"It was the least I could do." War nodded lightly, pulling his hand back. "He mentioned a lover before he died and asked me to deliver a message..." That was a lie, but he'd rather not tell Uriel the truth. The chances that she'd see eye to eye with him on that weren't exactly good. "Do you know who that is... well, was?"

Biting her lip, she shook her head. "No, I never heard of Azrael having a lover. Are you certain?"

Mind flashing back to the emotional scholar, War nodded slowly. "He himself claimed it. Is there a way I could find out?"

"I..." She frowned lightly. "I suppose I could find out when we return to Heaven. There are very few angels that would be appropriate for him after all. Especially after... all this."

Again the Nephilim nodded, looking at the other living angel remaining in the room with them. His sibling were downstairs, guarding the area from any enemies that'd come here.

"Did he know?" Uriel broke the silence without looking away from the scholar. "He and Abaddon were close, did he know of Abaddon's plan?"

"He..." The Rider looked at the peacefully closed eyes of the angel. "He did not. He was as surprised and... betrayed as you were when I told him Abaddon was responsible for all this." Outside, the summoned angels approached. "Will you inform me if you find anything?"

"As much as I am able." The slender female answered, stepping back a bit so the others could gently lift the scholar's body. "Farewell, Rider... and thank you again."


	4. Chapter 4

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **4**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

She was a succubus, one of those creatures most demon-lords possessed by the dozen in their harems. Unfortunately for her, her demon-lord had fallen during the unrests following the premature Endwar, leaving her at the mercy of the other demons. As a rule, succubi could do not much more than sleep around...

Instead of having found a new benefactor, even had it been merely a lieutenant, she had found death. She did not know who had captured her, but she could tell it was not for pleasure. Her dark skin faded into the rocky ground she was upon, chains holding her immobile. In her flesh and in the stone were glyphs, sharp and angular things from before a time when script had defined itself as such.

The black-haired female could only faintly make out the vague form of her captor in the corridor leading away from the chamber.

He was looking at her, more than a little annoyed that the female had been the best he could find in the short time he had had. Dangling from the fingers of his left hand was a small necklace, a dark-blue stone contrasted with the grey and red of the surroundings. It was the necklace Azrael had cherished so much. It was pulsing with mystical energies: Azrael's.

The male snorted lightly. What would his lover have said had he known that the gift had been a necromantic vacuum, intended to draw in the angel's soul should he die? The irony was almost hilarious... Heaven's finest, carrying around the epitome of necromantic skill and power.

Still, he could ill afford to linger since it was only a matter of time until Azrael's powers would burn through the wards holding his soul captive in the trinket. He could feel it already starting to push against his will. Damn overpowered angel...

He sighed, looking at the piece of jewelry. Well, there was no reason to delay. He had only one shot with this after all and the freer the soul had become, the harder it would be to bend it to his will.

"Be with me, my love." Gently pressing a kiss to the amulet, he entered the room slowly. His feet did not disturb the carved runes, though the succubus started to fight against her bonds.

"Quiet." He snarled, furious that this unworthy thing would potentially house the soul of his beloved. But she had been the closest thing to an angel he managed to find on such short notice... At least without resorting to actually taking an angel, that was. Though perhaps Azrael would be skilled enough to make it more fitting. "You should rejoice in the honour I give you."

Stepping up to her side, he held out the amulet. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the myriad of enchantments he had to use for this. It was in the end a mockery of the manner how Makers made their constructs, first thought out shortly after the creation of necromancy itself, but how often it had been used in the end he could not tell. Even less how often it had actually worked.

The runes started to glow, a gale rising from them.

"Let us see who wins between the Kingdom of the Dead and Me." He muttered, sweat-pearls forming on his skin. He never sweated, but this was taking everything he had. Not only did he need to fight the pull on the disembodied soul, but at the same time he needed to force it into a body that still had a soul.

Sometimes he wondered how and why he had fallen in love with the Archangel...

Bright blue light streamed from the lapis lazuli, being forced down to the struggling form on the ground. A single skull-shaped wisp was drawn into the succubus by the runes all around the chamber. The outstretched arm trembled with the strain on the body it belonged to.

He actually felt like praying to the Creator, pleading for it to work. Briefly a memory of how he felt when Azrael had died resurfaced, nearly breaking his concentration. Fucking Hell...

"I... will... not lose you again..." Snarling, he fought to maintain his grip on the resisting soul. "You were always so stubborn, but not this time."


	5. Chapter 5

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **5**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

He felt so weak and heavy. Barely managing to open his eyes, shudders wracked his body. Was this what it was like to be dead? No, it could not be. Surely being dead would be more peaceful. Besides, this did not feel like the Well of Souls at all and if he knew any place by heart, it was that.

His body felt strange as well. Finally his eyes drifted into focus. A cave? Why in Creator's name was he in a cave? This was not the Kingdom of the Dead. It was... too red. His face-muscles twitched into something resembling shock. The last thing he remembered was Strife aiming a gun at his face. How had he ended up in Hell!?

"Hello, my love." A deep voice softly greeted him. He only now noticed the other in the room with him. What...? "Rest, my sweet angel. Much has happened." A finger gently caressed his cheek. "All is well now. More or less..."

"Ah..." The scholar tried to talk, but found his vocal cords locked in place. What had happened to him?

"Sssh..." The finger settled on his lips. "All in due time. Trust me."

Why did the other male look guilty? What had he done? Azrael moaned lightly, trying with all his might to get his body to obey. He failed miserably, being rewarded for his strain with only a few pitiful twitches in his fingers.

"Stubborn as always." The standing male crouched down, chuckling lightly while pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Will you just rest?"

"Mmhnn..." Well, at least he was wrestling his vocal cords somewhat back under control. Now if he could be told what had happened that instead of in the Kingdom of the Dead, he had ended up in Hell, he'd gladly obey his lover.

"Figured." Resting his hand on the ground beside the prone figure's head, the sitting male used the other to push the eyelids closed again. "But considering you are even struggling to keep your eyes open, I insist."

Had he had the strength, he'd probably have grumbled. As it was, the loss of sight was all his body needed to lose the fight against sleep.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

They had been unable to return most bodies to the White City, but Uriel _had_ ensured that she'd at least knew every fallen by name. She owed them that much at least.

Briefly the interim-general of the Hellguard looked at the body being borne in a place of honour. Two of the more mystically inclined survivors were floating a long-robed body, keeping his long and slender wings neatly folded beneath him. Azrael's body followed right after her, the scholar's hands neatly folded on his chest.

Her jaw twitched briefly before she got herself under control. How could Abaddon have done this!? Not only to the Third Kingdom and the Hellguard, but to him?

Up ahead, she saw several Elder Angels waiting. Long wings spread out behind them, forming a near impenetrable wall of white.

Kneeling in front of them, she more felt than heard the other returning angels do likewise. She blinked briefly when hearing a choked sound from ahead of her. Someone passed her by, unheeding of protocol and laws that demanded angels let logic dictate their actions.

"Uriel." Someone spoke, voice cold as ice. Yet despite this, there was a faint quiver beneath the words. "Report."

She took a deep breath and started talking.


	6. Chapter 6

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **6**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

One of the smaller islands was moved into the airspace of the Argent Spire. Two great pillars cast from the purest platinum would flank a marble-and-gold statue of a faceless warrior angel.

Uriel had written down the names of those that had died under her service and handed it to the craftsmen, who would by hand chisel every name into the pillars. Aside from one, all bodies the Hellguard had managed to salvage would be ritually burned with all honours. Of the several thousand that had died, she had only managed to return roughly sixty. All others would have their final resting-place on Earth for one reason or another.

The newly-minted General of the Hellguard had insisted she be the one to guard the work. It was the least she could do.

Biting her lip, her golden eyes trailed to the crystal dome being formed. It would take a good while until the tomb was done. The White City's Assembly had been unanimous in their decision to spare one body of the flames: the Gatekeeper would rest forever beside the library he had so cherished in life.

From what she had gathered, he would be dressed in Heaven's finest fabrics, layers upon layers of preservation-spells ensuring his body would endure for eternity.

Dragging her eyes away from the workers, she looked out over the city. She had tried to find out who – if it was so at all – had been the mystic's lover and had found nothing. The only one most people could even assume had been Abaddon himself, who for obvious reasons was no longer applicable.

The few that were still alive and possible according to the laws of the Codex Bellum, claimed that they had had no relations with the Elder Angel. It seemed she would have to tell War that Azrael's lover was among those that fell in the premature End War.

An angel flew up, eyes somewhat wide. "General!"

"Yes?" Uriel turned to face him, uncrossing her arms.

"It's... it's War." The male hovered in place in front of her. "He is at the White City Gate and requests to speak with you."

"I will meet him there." Speak of the Devil... "Find someone to take over here for me."

The angel bowed, before diving away into the City. With a sigh, the golden-eyed female took to the air, heading for the gate.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"You are certain of this?" The Rider stood beside Ruin, the golem-hand resting on the horse's saddle.

"Short of randomly accusing angels to judge their reaction, I have done everything I could to find out." Her golden wings twitched lightly as she stood on the ground a short distance away. "I fear his lover has died in this war as well."

"I suppose it's a small mercy he died thinking he had not..." War mused, idly stroking the stone-grey flank in front of him. "What will you do with him?"

"The Assembly has decided to make him part of a memorial. To let it be a reminder to all about Abaddon's... lack of judgement."

"He judged alright..." The Horseman sighed softly. "Would it be permissible if I visited it? I did not start the End War, but..." His blue eyes trailed up to the buildings just visible over the outer wall. "I feel responsible for what happened to Azrael... Perhaps if I..." Perhaps if I had done more, he could have done enough to at least be spared...

"I will see if something can be arranged." She nodded lightly. "What will happen now?"

The query caught him off guard. "I cannot say. It seems that for now, everyone is in a tentative cease-fire with everyone." He snorted mirthlessly. "Enjoy this peace while it lasts, Uriel. I am not entirely certain it'll last until the year is over."

"All this... and for what?" Her mouth-corners twitched. "Why would Abaddon do this?" It almost sounded a touch pleading. "He was our champion, the greatest hero we had... why would he Fall this deep?"

War did not immediately answer. His eldest brother had told him of the Firstborn's own ordeal and he could now make quite the reasonable guess that the 'sickness' Abaddon and Azrael had wanted to purge with the premature End War was the Corruption brought about by Absalom. "He misjudged the origin of a darkness in the Universe... and tried to purge it. It was a stupid, stupid mistake."

The General briefly looked at him with wide eyes, before also looking towards the city. "Stupid indeed..."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"You turned me into a demon!? Have you lost your mind? ... Well, I suppose that is true. ... Of course... It's just... look at me, I am not _meant t_ o be a demon! I am... was one of the Archangels of Heaven. ... I _know_ that, but that doesn't make it any easier. ... And then what? Walk around like an angel? How likely are people to buy that you have an angelic lover? I'll have to stay a demon now. ... Of course I can still change my body, but I refuse to look like one of those Phantomguards. Not to mention those would be mighty strange as your lover as well. ... Of course I care about your image! It's going to be... going to be the only thing that keeps people from looking too closely at the fact you have taken a lesser demon as... as your... _consort_. ... I... yes, yes, I will. ... I love you too... I just... I just need a moment to deal with this. I mean... I turned from... from a male angel into... into _this._ Yes, thank you... Don't worry, I won't leave."


	7. Chapter 7

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **7**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Azrael paced the room that he was in. Ever since waking he had not left it and did not feel like it either. It was a week since he had 'died' and he was still regaining his strength. He suspected that it would take him another one at least to return to his full strength.

Looking down on his hands, he flexed his fingers. They were even more slender than his old ones had been. Everything was more slender than it had been, except for his chest, obviously. To think that he'd have to run around like this for the rest of eternity...

"Perhaps I could make them smaller..." He mused, stopping in front of the only window in the room. Flecks of ash swirled inside, covering the nearby ground and making him leave footsteps there. "Fix my wings..." He had never quite realized how much he _liked_ being able to float around instead of walking. "Then again..." Were there even succubi with angel-oriented wings?

He sighed again, moving away from the window back into the room. He didn't even want to think about the outfits he'd have to wear... "Creator, give me strength."

He understood why his lover had done this... had even come to terms with the Necromancy that had been involved in it, but everything else was still pretty much a sore point.

From greatest mystic and scholar of Heaven to eye-candy and pet, at best... Well, at least outwardly. He knew that his lover would treat him like always in private, but in public there was just this huge gap between them.

Absentmindedly, he moved his hand to run it through his hair, only to cringe at feeling his horns.

He flinched at someone entering the room.

"How are you?" His lover entered, looking at him in worry.

"Getting there." Even his voice was just weird. "Do you know if there are succubi with angel-oriented wings? I miss flying."

"I am sure no one would ask questions with the diversity among demons." The bulkier male crossed the room, gently caressing the former angel's cheek. "Aside from that?"

"I'll be fine." Azrael assured him. "This'll just take some getting used to... And if you apologize again, I will turn you into a bunny. I think I have enough strength for that now."

"Duly noted." The male chuckled, resting one hand on the other's shoulder. "So you are going to change your wings?"

"And my chest." The mystic muttered dryly. "I might no longer be able to look male – Creator, I never expected that sentence to leave my mouth – but these are just excessive."

"I can understand." A tender look came into eyes that normally were filled with anything but. "Though if I may say so... this body is not bad to look at."

"True." Closing his eyes, the female-bodied one leaned against his lover. "I am just not certain when I'll be comfortable with it."

"Take your time." Arms closed around him. "Anything I can do to help?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

War was standing in the proverbial shadow of a building near the small island that would be Azrael's final resting-place. Uriel had managed to arrange this compromise: he could be present, but discretely.

He had tried to find the necklace again, but it had been as Strife had stated: it was just impossible. His siblings and he were going to have a serious talk with the Charred Council in just a couple days and he had hoped he'd be able to return it to the angel's lover.

Then again, according to Uriel said lover had probably died on Earth. Creator damn Abaddon...

"I wonder if he knew..." War mused softly. What had happened to his body anyway? Perhaps he could have Death raise him temporarily? Creator, he had really become invested in finding out who the scholar's lover had been, even if said lover was dead.

Perhaps if their business with the Council ended with them still alive he could do that. Someone that could make Azrael show this much emotion had to be damn special...


	8. Chapter 8

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **8**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The former angel stood in front of a mirror, his lover gone on yet another errand. Then again, considering what had happened he'd have been surprised if the other would have had free time. Azrael rested one hand on the smooth metal and the other on his own body. Chanting, he closed his eyes o focus on the body he wanted. Even if he could hide in these rooms forever from other people, he'd need to leave at some point to perform his duties at the Well...

He just hoped that the Well would still recognize him as its' guardian when he did. He had no clue how the demonic body would have affected his energies.

Opening his eyes, he looked over at what he had shaped his body into. It was at least better than the original had been. His chest was smaller, his wings turned the right way up – by angel-standards, that is. Now what to wear...

The mystic groaned lightly, wrapping the very un-succubus clothes around him tighter. He'd need to change those as well, sadly enough. Forcing his hands to relax he sighed softly.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Death had not been entirely sure why he had returned to the Well after all this time. But return he had...

Absalom's body had disappeared into nothing, leaving the ancient place empty.

Precariously balancing on the edge above the swirling abyss, the elder Nephilim traced his mask with one finger. His attunement to life-forces was bothering him.

He hadn't known much about the finer powers of the Well of Souls, or Azrael's exact command over them for that matter... But he did know that without the Archangel, the Well should have all but stopped its' movement. No souls should be flowing out of it.

Yet they were...

Azrael was dead and the Well was still doing what it was meant to do. Had he been mistaken about the angel's powers? Or had the Well gone onto a proverbial auto-pilot after the demise of its' Keeper?

At any rate, this ought to be investigated. No one would benefit of a haywire Well after all.

He stepped down from the elevated edge slowly, walking to the exit as the life-force of worlds swirled behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **9**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"It should have ceased working upon Azrael's demise." The Lord of Bones muttered, hands gripping his throne firmly. "It was his energy that allowed souls to pass through the Well upon their cleansing here."

"So what does it mean that it is still functioning after his death?" Death demanded, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Not much good, that is for certain." The green-glowing male stated, leaning forward lightly. "Perhaps... perhaps, had situations been different, I might have believed that he had safeguards set to continue its' function upon his demise, but his whole captivity would have thrown a wrench in this plan and ruined them to the point of non-existence."

"So someone is performing his duties in his stead?" The elder Nephilim snarled lightly behind his mask.

"Which bodes ill for the angel's soul..." The bone-decorated Lord of the Dead pointed out. "The Well reacts only to his energies, meaning that who-ever took this duty, they'd need Azrael to do this. It seems his passing was not as peaceful as one might hope."

"Someone is using _his_ soul for fuel." Death's one hand tightened into a fist, Dust shifting uncomfortably on his shoulder.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"But how?" Fury demanded in horror. "This is frigging Azrael we're talking about. His soul should be far too potent for anyone to contain..."

"The White City won't be happy about this, regardless of how it happened." War muttered, one hand firmly wrapped around Chaoseater's hilt. "Could this be some contingency plan of Abaddon?"

"I sincerely doubt he had enough power or the necessary knowledge to do that." Death stood in front of his siblings, arms crossed. "Very few would have either, let alone both."

"So how _would_ one do it?" Fury asked. "Not by the regular necromantic summoning, I assume?"

"That wouldn't do it." The Firstborn agreed. "They would have to have caught his soul right as he died. A necromantic vacuum... though I do not want to know what kind of countermeasures they would have needed to take to contain it for any length of time."

"How could you not notice that?" War demanded sharply. "You were right there, after all."

Death's eyes narrowed at his youngest brother's accusation.

Strife spoke up for the first time since they gathered this time. "If a vacuum was not made right in front of you, would you still sense its' presence?"

"Not if it was skilfully made." Death answered, turning to the other black-haired male. "What are you insinuating?"

"Azrael's necklace." The Gunner looked up from where he had been staring at his boots. "The gift of his lover... that was missing almost immediately after his death."

"His lover!?" Fury's voice was an actually an octave higher than usual.

"I certainly don't see what else it could be." The sleek-armoured male pointed out.

"What angel would have that kind of skill? Or even the _will_." War wondered, looking up into the sky.

"That is probably what we should find out."


	10. Chapter 10

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **10**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Even with an open inquiry, the Horsemen found no one who knew whom Azrael had taken as his lover, leaving only a few people who could possibly help.

Even HAD the White City allowed Death to perform Necromancy on Azrael's body, with his soul caught and trapped, there would have been nothing he could have called back to ask.

"Nice place." Strife looked around as they stood on an elevator down. "Suits you, brother."

Death did not deign him with an answer, watching as they reached the ground-floor.

"So this is where Abaddon's soul is?" War muttered darkly. Instead of the immediate Oblivion usually reserved for Balance-breakers, it had been decided that the soul of Heaven's former General would first be made to suffer a _long_ while beforehand.

Beside him, Uriel stood with her arms crossed. At the suggestion that their First Scholar's soul might be used for fuel, the Angels had insisted they be involved in this, regardless of how precarious the truces between the factions of Creation were.

"Yes." Death did answer his youngest brother, leading the way deeper into the catacombs that had once been Phariseer's Tomb, but now were Abaddon's prison.

Uriel followed them in the air, still not speaking. Not even when they reached Abaddon, did the angelic female speak. Only when the soul crashed to the ground, the wingless male temporarily freed from his torment did she speak. "You think we can trust his word?"

"He knows better than to lie by now, surely." Death regarded the green-glowing form of Heaven's former General. "Are you still sane?"

"Was I ever...?" Abaddon cowered on the ground, his voice rough. "What did I do...?"

"Let's not go into that." The Firstborn stated darkly. "You will do as I say from now on."

"Yes..." The angel did not even look up.

"Azrael's lover. Who was he?"

"His... lover...?" Now the former Destroyer looked up. "He... has a lover?"

"You did not know?" Fury demanded in surprise.

"I... no... how...?" He shivered. "Did I...? No... Why didn't he...?"

"Tell you?" Strife snarled softly. "I think the fact that he's dead might be somewhat of a hinder."

"Dead?" The angel recoiled in horror. "No. Nonono... he lived... I kept him safe... how can he...?"

"You drained him for a century." Uriel bit at him, hands twitching where they were clinging to her own arms. "Did you honestly think he'd survive that!?"

"I..." The soul curled up around himself. "It... it was stasis... I... was sure it was... Azrael..." Had he still had wings, he would have wrapped himself in them for comfort. "I didn't..."

"Apparently you 'didn't' a lot of things." Death reached out with his powers, forcing the soul to uncurl. "So you never knew Azrael had a lover?"

"No..." Abaddon shivered lightly. "Creator... Does he...?"

"Know you killed his lover?" War finished his sentence. "Considering you actions left Azrael weakened enough for his soul to now be used as fuel..."

"Like Well, like Watcher." Strife added dryly at the soul's horrified expression. "Surprised you mind since you so eagerly used his charge for just the same thing."

"I..." Trembling, Abaddon buried his face in his hands. "No... I never..."

"Regardless, it seems we'll have to go 'heavy guns'..." Death muttered darkly. "I hoped it wouldn't have to come to this, but we'll have to visit Samael. He's damn near omniscient and our last hope to find out whoever did this."

"Can... can I come...?" Abaddon breathed heavily, reaching for the Nephilim. "Please... Azrael... I never intended him... please..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **11**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"I don't think I can help you with that." Samael mused as he lounged on his throne. "It's not like Azrael came over for tea and we had nice talks in front of the fire-place."

"You are damn near omniscient." War snarled, ignoring the two angelic forms behind them. Abaddon was floating behind Uriel, trying to make himself as small as possible. "'There is little you can keep from me, Horseman, once I have a mind to know it', if I remember properly."

"And what makes you think I'd be interested in whomever Azrael took into his bed...?" The demon smirked lightly. "What use would that be to me?"

"I'm certain you could think of some." Death pointed out. "I somewhat refuse to believe you do not know. Who is it?"

"This is Azrael we're talking about..." The demon-lord leaned forward. "He took his precautions... Particularly since it was no angel."

"So you DO know." Strife snarled lightly. He really did not feel like participating in this wild goose-chase.

"Otherwise... _Abaddon_ would know." Samael chuckled, gesturing to the green-glowing spectre beside Uriel. "And since apparently you felt you needed to drag him all the way here – presumable not as a snack for me – I assume he does not." He grinned faintly at the knee-jerk glower on the female angel's face. "Or did he fall from Azrael's favour long before turning him into a tower-decoration?" Abaddon almost, almost snarled something in answer, but in the end just deflated more.

"Your business is not with Abaddon." The Firstborn Nephilim stepped lightly into the line of sight of the looming demon. "You know who Azrael was with, I refuse to believe you do not. Just tell us and we can leave you in peace."

"Assuming I do..." The demon moved to sit upright again. "Are you sure you would want to drag Abaddon along for the ride? No doubt Azrael's dear one does not like him right now." At their silence, he added darkly. "Come now... Leaving a defenceless angel trapped among hordes of demons? Did you honestly believe that would leave Azrael _safe_ , Abaddon?"

The former General of the Hellguard flinched, recoiling from the demon at that. Opening his mouth, no sound came out.

"Naive..." Samael contemplated the sight. "I will not tell you who Azrael shared his bed with. I can tell you that you are somewhat wrong. Azrael's soul never switched owner. He still wields it himself."

"We entombed his body." Uriel finally spoke up. "He's dead."

"Oh, he died, no doubt." The demon answered smoothly. "His soul did not pass into the Well. Is all. You were on point with the Necromantic vacuum, Death... and Fury. No wards would be able to hold it long enough for something as frivolous using it as fuel."

"So then what?" Fury's whip crackled lightly.

Samael seemed lost in thought for a few moments. "What do you know off the 'rehousing ritual', Death?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Category:** **Darksiders I & II**

 **Rating:** **M**

 **Couples:** **Azrael/?**

 **Warnings:** **AU, Character Death, Blood**

 **Chapter:** **12**

 **Copyright:** **Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Death had not appreciated the question... or rather, the implication of it. Neither were any of the others, once he had explained it to them, well away from Samael's keep.

"So from a practical standpoint, we would not even recognize him if we came across him?" Strife muttered darkly, leaning against the wall.

"There would be one place: the Well of Souls." Fury pointed out. "He needs to be there regularly to ensure its' safety, does he not?"

"So we'll have to go there then?" Uriel realized. "Do we have any assurance he'll be there when we come?"

"No, but after all this mess, he'll have to visit it regularly to ensure its' proper workings." War sighed lightly. "He'll come sooner or later."

They needn't have worried. Upon passing through the open doors, they saw a demon standing on the central platform. A succubus dress stood there, dark-red wings flared out wide as magic surrounded her hands.

The female noticed them soon enough, turning to face them. "I figured someone would notice at some point."

"My Lord...?" Uriel hesitantly flew forward.

"Greetings, Uriel." The demoness smiled weakly. "I heard rumours I had quite the funeral in the White City..."

"Indeed." War muttered, looking the succubus over.

"In my defense, I did not know I'd get another body." The Gatekeeper stated softly.

"You seem quite calm about it." Death answered. "I was not aware you had grown accepting of Necromancy."

"It was done with good intentions." Azrael looked at the blue glow around them. "Besides, enough happened for a long time now... I suppose I have grown accepting of _his_ necromancy."

Abaddon meanwhile had not dared to say a thing, almost cowering behind the Horsemen. How could he face his friend after everything?

"So... you're going to stay like that?" Strife asked after a while, gesturing to the entirety of the former angel.

"Perhaps." Uriel looked downright devastated at the answer. "Even without this body, I am not exactly pure anymore... I'd not want to taint Heaven with the blight within me."

"Your demon-lover?" Abaddon weakly asked, recoiling when Azrael looked at him.

"Don't... don't even talk to me." The demonic vocal-cords turned the scholar's voice into a decidedly un-angelic snarl. "Don't you dare, Abaddon."

"I..." The former General shrunk back.

"Don't." Azrael turned away from him, looking at the Horsemen. "So why are you here?"

"Because we wanted to know what happened to you. The Well was active when it should not have been." Death stated, crossing his arms.

"You know now... What will you do?" Azrael spread his arms.

"First, speak with you... alone." War looked at the two angels in clear dismission.

Waiting until the two others were gone, Azrael looked at the bulking male. "You are upset I escaped death? I can assure you I did not know what he had done. As you can imagine, I would not have agreed to it."

"Not... upset." War softly answered. "I believe you... though I have to ask about your lover. You hid him well."

"I think you can imagine he'd not have gone over well." Azrael pushed some of the necklaces now adorning his chest into a more comfortable position. "For obvious reasons."

"I never saw you with a demon." Death snorted lightly, which meant quite something considering how unresponsive he was to most things.

"A great many things were not seen." Sharp teeth were briefly seen during a melancholy smile. "Or were they?"


End file.
